A/N: Woah... Hard chapter to get out. Was dealing with serious brick wall when writing this the last few days. Amazingly, it still only took about 3 days to complete like the rest of the chapters. If I wasn't sharing my time with another fanfic I think this fic could have been completed in a month. Anyway, we're reaching a close yall. I'm thinking 3-4 chapters left.



Through Smudged Glass

By angelwings1


Chapter 8


..

Had it been four days or five? She couldn't be sure. She had fallen asleep trice since she had arrived at what she had come to call the hell hole, but when she had woken this time, it was still dark out of the single two-foot-wide basement window. They hadn't fed her so she couldn't decide by meals. With the way her stomach was aching, she prayed it was five. They probably we're trying to break her for information about underground Christian organizations. Four days hardly seemed long enough if they were trying to starve her. Five days meant that much closer to reaching some sort of end, whether be an interrogation or her death.

The November cold seeped into the barren room, sliding up her spine. Fuu whimpered lightly and pulled her knees closer to her chest. They had ripped her jacket from her the day they had thrown into the makeshift cell and no one came in to offer her a blanket. She had considered exercising (walking, running, etc) to warm herself up, but after a day without food, she decided she would need every ounce of her energy.

Boredom had settled after the first hour and had blared straight into her sleep. She couldn't even get into counting sheep. She would get to thirty-six and then silently comment on her increasing boredom. She had only tried sleeping because there was nothing she could think up to do.

Day two was full of stretched out hope for visitors. It had already been close to evening when they had pulled into the black sedan and yank a blindfold over her eyes. She thought they had skipped out on her meal for the first day and had waited impatiently for door activity. Her fists were red from hours of banging on the door and her voice had lost its pleasant tone after her vocal cords were thoroughly stretched out. As the shadows crawled lazily over the concrete floor, Fuu soon learned there was no intention for anyone to visit. Her worry increased tenfold when her stomach twisted violently in hunger.

Day three pushed her into a wild panic as she became nauseated from lack of food and water. Her head was pounding and any small amount of movement made her head float painfully. Fuu made sure to complain extra-loudly at the ceiling, hoping her captors could hear. She even began to sing off-key letting her believe she was irritating someone's eardrums. At least, it made her feel good for the time being.

Day four or five was a depressing gray, especially since the concrete walls had rudely followed her into the sanctuary of her dreams. She was personally surprised she hadn't broken down crying the first day. Maybe she had subconsciously known this day would come. Did she always believe she would die at their hands like her father had? When her eyes had fluttered open she had been facing the nearest wall, the one she remembered pressing her back against. She had momentarily gone into a panic, thinking she had been put into her coffin. Scrambling away with a small cry, she was relieved to see she was still in the cold basement. Relief quickly dropped to bitter tears as she realized the room might as well become her coffin. She doubted there was much time left before something drastic happened.

Fuu's heart skipped. Her hands involuntarily tightened around her knees as she felt tears prick her eyes. She wished she was stronger. She had read the stories of the martyrs. Heck, her father had been one. Their romantic unwavering faith had been encouraging to hear. She had spent hours dreaming of how they had stood against the oppression, their faces determine and shining with love for an invisible God. She wanted to bear this load with as much dignity as they did, but she didn't know how.

Was it unfair to doubt? To be frightened in these moments of trial? Especially when nothing was happening? Some martyrs had been stoned or tortured. She had been ignored food and only for the last four days. Did it make her a horrible person? She felt like it did.

She pressed her forehead firmly into her arms and sniffed loudly. She knew it would come the time when they ask her to renounce her faith. It always happened in the stories. Would she be ready to answer? Some weren't given as much as heartbeat of a minute to prepare for such a dangerous question. Many had answered in a split second, never hesitating. Something dark churned in her stomach and a short sob escaped her shaky lips.

"I'm sorry that I'm scared," she mumbled between sniffles. "I'm sure others have suffered more than I have."

The room closed in around her and the ball her body created became tighter. The air was suffocating. She suddenly wished she could open the basement window to get some circulation. Her head flew up. She had never tried to open the window.

Her depression instantly switched into giddy excitement as she scrambled to her feet. Her fingers eagerly reached for the small window, her mind already swimming with images of her escape. Her smile soon dropped when she saw her fingers were two inches too low to reach the windowsill. Gritting her teeth, she pressed hard on her the tip of her toes and desperately stretched her fingers. When she barely gained half inch difference, her heart sank.

Groaning, she dropped her arms and pressed her forehead against the cold wall. She didn't have to look around her cell to know there was nothing to aid her. They had made sure to clear out before her arrival. Fuu pressed her shoulder wearily into the wall, torn between crying and pacing out the nervous twitching in her limbs. Decided against the first, the young woman began to walk along the wall, her fingers lazily trailing the rough surface.

Her chin lifted. "I have to keep my head up. If I keep thinking bad thoughts, than I'm going to end up putting myself into a panic and begging to be released before they even start torturing me."

'Not that they will. They probably just kill me.'

The young woman ignored the way her stomach twisted. "I'm not going down as some sniveling dog."

Her thoughts turned to Momo and she cringed. She hoped Momo was alright. Hopefully, someone would find him before he starved to death in that closet. The mutt had bitten a chunk out of an attacker's calf and received a quick kick into the closet. Momo didn't deserve such a sad end. Maybe he had been a stray from the beginning, but he had proven to be essential in her life. He had saved her through some hard scraps, including several sexual assaults. She had come to believe Momo was her good luck charm. "I guess there is no such thing as luck."

Finishing her third circle of the room, the young boxer stopped at her corner. With unfocused eyes, she stared at the toe of her shoes and wrapped her arms around her for warmth. 'Try thinking happy thoughts. Maybe it's a bit 'Peter Pan-ny,' but it's got to be better than wallowing around.'


..

Fuu ignored another wink from the nearby man and added a little vigor to her hand as she wiped a shot glass. Maybe she should switch back to lunch shifts on weekends. Only trash seemed to sit at the bar on Saturday nights. She spent more time avoiding phone numbers and wandering hands than making real money. She preferred the regulars from the day shifts a lot better. They rarely crossed the line where she was forced to refuse them any more alcohol.

Tonight was another one of those annoying reminders. The bar was completely full of customers and luckily she had Marsha. Not only did the blonde college dropout help divide the work load, but she also aided in catching some of the unwanted attention. For Marsha, the attention was exciting and helped in the tip department. Fuu didn't care if a drunk tipped her a hundred dollars, she wouldn't resort to flirting. She gave her customers the same smile she gave everyone and had learned to politely reject their advances. Even though her kindness and lack of response was abnormal to most bars, she had appeared to be a bartender who entire life was behind the counter at "Reggies." Instead, she was a girl, not-yet-a-woman, who was waiting for something to happen.

Something big did happen that night. Its memory would forever be burned into her mind as the day her life shifted towards the horizon she had always wanted.

There was a football game that weekend so the bar area was pressed hard with bodies standing between tables to watch the four televisions hanging. Fuu and Marsha were barely keeping up with the order of drinks so they had split off their teamwork like they normally deal during busy hours. One would keep making drinks while the other dealt with people crowding the bar counter.

Lucky for Fuu that night, she had the latter job and having a difficult job shooing off an overly-confident young man. The good thing about nights like that was the bar seats didn't rotate customers as quickly as they normally did, thus helping her notice a new face seated amongst the ones she had been looking at for the last two hours. She was shrugging off the troublemaker's lustful comment about her figure when she caught movement in the corner of her eye. A girl with a martini was rushing off with her cash laid out on her recipe. Taking the excuse to grab the cash to get away from the man, she hurried over the abandoned seat. When her fingers curled around the bills, the seat was immediately re-sat with a male body. Whipping on her angelic smile, she lifted her face to greet the newcomer and froze.

She had never met the man before, that she was certain. It might be a busy restaurant, but she would have recognized a man like him. Wild short hair, hard set face, scratchy chin, worn leather jacket that fit nicely on broad shoulders—he definitely earned marks for looks and a red warning label for trouble. His was a man who reeked of a dangerous bad boy persona, one she avoided in the drunken atmosphere that presently surrounded her.

When his eyes lifted and connected with hers, the young girl was thrown off by the intensity burning in them. His entire demeanor made her curious. Unfortunately, she knew there was hardly any room for discovery in the scene they stood in and decided to get straight to the point.

"What can I get you?" she asked simply.

The guy leaned forward on his elbows with his lips in tight line. "I'll get rid of him for five beers."

If she hadn't been completely focused on the man sitting in front of her, she would have believed she misheard his quiet command. Heck, he was lucky she had heard him at all with the shouting going on around them. "Excuse me?"

"Lover boy over there," he cocked his head towards the man who was presently calling her several nicknames she didn't care to remember. "I'll get rid of him for five beers."

Fuu heatedly pushed off the edge of the counter. "I don't give out free liquor. You want one, than you're paying."

Whirling, she went to another customer to give him a little time to think about her response. She hated moochers and sex-maniacs. Tonight, she had both and she was beginning to reach the end of her fuse. To make a long story short, it turned out Fuu did give out a free drink that night. After one too many gropes for her rear by a certain lover boy, Fuu, without blinking an eye, dumped a draft beer over the man's head. Smiling sweetly at his startled face, Fuu stated merrily, "That one is on me."

She was sure when the bar went silent with the exceptions of the noise coming from the tvs. It was either right when lover boy's face became red and twisted or when he and several of his friends whipped out guns and pointed it at her forehead. Her brown eyes widened in shock as the cool metal pressed against her skin. It felt so surreal.

They had two bouncers at the door for situation similar to this minus the pistol. Glancing nervously at the quickly departing people, she was surprised to see the man in leather still sitting. His lips tilted and her jaw nearly dropped. Was he seriously willing to go against a gun for a few stupid beers?

'He's an idiot!'

Soon the bar area became the field for a waiting game. A teary Marsha was standing at the other end of the bar, two bouncers were hanging on the edge of the room fearful of setting off the guy's trigger finger, and a few random customers were too scared out of their wits to move. Fuu patiently stared at the man, unsure of what to do.

"Stupid bitch! I think you don't understand the type of man you dowsed with good beer."

Her hopeful eyes shifted towards the leather jacket. "Fifty beers."

Lover boy blinked. "What?"

"Fifty beers!" she repeated in a shrill cry, too afraid to think beyond her rapidly shortening life.


..

Her teary face warmed on the memory. It was day she chalked up to God's working hands. If it hadn't been for Mugen, the bar wouldn't have burned down the one snare that kept her leashed to her hometown. She might never have made the journey that had led her father, barely before he was murdered.

"I bet he doesn't even know he led me to You," her tone was gentle, adoring. Mugen may have been one of two men to protect her throughout the journey, but he was the catalyst to the start and to the finish. He had been the one to churn the fight in the bar. He had been the one to come to her rescue and push her to the front door of her father's shambles. She knew it was a whimsical idea, but it brought a warm glow to heart. She liked thinking of him threaded into her fate.


..

Fuu crashed to the floor in disorganized heap. Whipping her head around as she scrambled to her knees, she was surprised to see Mugen charging Shinsuke. "No! Stop!"

His finger was dangerously close to the trigger as he glanced towards her, eyes wild. "What?"

"It's not what you think!" she cried, hurrying over to the shaking adolescent. "He wasn't going to hurt me!"

"Like I care what happens to your ass!" the ex-gangster snapped quickly. "I'm pissed off because he took the money for my dinner."

Her face darkened. "Whatever. Just let him go."

"The f— I will!" he thundered, turning back on the boy.

"No!" She stomped her foot hard on the wood floor. "He did this for his dying mother. He stole our money for his mother."


..

Even though Jin had done equal amount of guarding her, she couldn't help, but think back to whom was the first to always arrive at her aid. She knew they were both equal in strength and speed, so she didn't allow herself to believe Mugen was faster. She tried not thinking on the matter much at all, really. She had never wanted to choose between her two best friends.

That's why the day she had separated from the two, she had kept her words in the prison of her heart. She never wanted Jin to feel any less loved by her. She never wanted to push him away…like that day when Sara had asked for one of her bodyguards.


..

"I want you to go along with Sara." She held her breath after she breathed those stabbing words and stared at the professional fighter. Jin blinked only once, startled, but only that slight hint of being thrown off balanced. His poker face revealed nothing of thoughts and she prayed she didn't hate her.

He nodded, accepting. Her eyes widened in surprise. She had hoped he would refuse. He had been the one who had shown restraint to Sara's mysterious, attractive persona. If she picked Mugen, she knew he would abandon her without a goodbye.

Fuu's heart burst with a new wave of ache as she realized she hadn't accounted for one detail. If she picked Jin, it revealed her stronger attachment to Mugen. Her eyes filled with tears, but she hastily blinked them away and smiled. It was too late to take back her decision, even if it was the only decision.


..

Fuu pushed back the unbidden thoughts. She hated to think she was having one of those "my-life-flashed-before-my-eyes" moments. Her mind lazily shifted to the ex-gangster, wondering if he was searching for her. Even if he was, there was any chance he would find her. She had never explained where to find Uncle Zuikou and she doubted she was locked up nearby the apartment. Blindfolding her might have made her blind, but she had been able to tell they hadn't driven very far. The building, house or complex, was about fifteen minutes away from the hidden shack.

She let out a short laugh. "He's probably half way to the nearest bar or pimp."

Even if it was cruel to her emotions to think he had abandoned her, her mouth slid into a tender smile for the man. It wouldn't be the first time he had abandoned her and then did a U-turn.


..

Fuu stared in shock as the doors buckled and fell, revealing two dead guards and one pissed off ex-gangster. "Mugen?"

His eyes had found hers in a second and they narrowed with confusion at her colorful apparel. Taking in the scene, he realized he was standing in a small casino with the young woman hunched over a pair of dice and surrounded by spectators. The one thing that set off the gambling scene was the dead figure lying on the floor in a pool of red.


..

Her chin slowly dropped into the comfortable crook of her arm. Her warm breath ghosted over her goosebumps. Mugen was more than a friend and a crush. He was the key to her life. Perhaps, it had been her father who had unintentionally left her the Bible and teachings she now cherished, but it was Mugen who taught her to believe in something invisible.

A giggle bubbled in her chest. Strange how a man voided of morals brought her to believe in one of the most controversial issues of the present day.

Even though it appeared hard to explain, it was actually quite simple: the more morals he threw out, the more she got. Sadly, however, for the young boxer, it had been more than competition that had fueled her beliefs. No, instead it had been her witnessing the decay in his heart. The constant scene of his cold demeanor had made her chest hollow and tears prick the back of her eyelids. He lived a hopeless existence, going from girl to bottle to sustain his entertainment, his single purpose of life. He ignored the thought of death, angrily claiming there was nothing beyond the grave. Life held no purpose to him.

She couldn't live like that way. She had to believe there was more or else a cold darkness would swallow her. Fuu shivered subconsciously.

'Besides… ever since I became a Christian a year ago, I've never felt…so complete.' If that was wrong, than what was right?

Her heart thundered at her silent proclamation. Suddenly, it didn't feel like there was any doubt left in her. Thoughts of torture and death didn't even ruffle her feathers. She blinked slowly, strong waves of strength coursing through her body. The previous hunger and pain had disappeared, leaving behind only cool determination.

Abruptly, there was a heavy shuffling and her eyes darted to the motionless door. The noise brought no fear to her heart. Instead, she became calm with resolve. There was the sound of several locks clicking and then a loud creak as the door swung in. The hall light flooded into the dim room and cast shadows over the trio of male figures marching inside her cell. She never felt a temptation to duck away as they approached, even though their intentions were vividly clear with the weapons in their hands. She was ready.